


cover me in blue

by goodnightmoon



Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Kansas City Royals, M/M, Royals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:16:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2656736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightmoon/pseuds/goodnightmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ok look these are just a bunch of one-shots and it's super domestic and ridiculous and there's a lot of sex and i had a lot of fun just writing it so yeahhhhh enjoy woo (and also i wrote this before they lost the world series and ofc i'm not gonna put that they lost in here?? so yeah it says they won) (in my heart they did)</p>
            </blockquote>





	cover me in blue

"Was there a main focus point for you tonight?"

Brandon had panicked at this question, and Eric had teased him about it later.

The first thought that had popped into Brandon's head was that somehow, the reporter knew, and that he must deny it at all costs. So he stuttered a bit, bouncing on his heels, and finally said that _yes, he always just looks to the foul pole, and that's when he locks in_ , and the reporters, for the most part, bought it. He didn't think there was really any chance of his passing it off, but who (besides the reporter who asked the question in the first place) was going to actually suspect that he always got his confidence by staring at his boyfriend, the first baseman?  
  
***  
They were never gonna stay a secret if Eric kept touching Brandon's ass. Sure, Brandon knew, that because his boyfriend did it to most everyone else, no one was gonna say anything; but he didn't do it to them like that.   
  
***  
It was Eric's 25th birthday when he first really introduced Brandon to his parents. Of course, they knew his name, and that Eric himself was gay, but they had no idea about the boyfriend thing until he said "mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, Brandon."

To say they were surprised would be an injustice to them, considering they had heard the way Eric talked about Brandon, but they acted the part remarkably well and received the news with all the smiles of the world.   
  
That made him feel immensely better, especially after that Erin Matthews - or was it Andrews? - fucked up his name and also asked him what he was gonna do that night for his birthday. He has said he didn't know, but _god_ he couldn't wait to get alone with Brandon, and hoped it didn't show in his wandering eyes.   
  
The hotel the team stayed in that night had a honeymoon suite that Eric had jumped at the first chance of getting. His reasoning to the other guys was that it was because of his birthday, he deserved it, all that shit, and they shut up about it after awhile; and that night, around midnight, Eric was sitting on the bed in his boxers, staring at the clock, when the knock came. He stood up quickly and ran to the door; Brandon came tumbling in, grinning, and threw his arms around Eric.   
  
A few minutes after that, Eric was left to wonder where the hell Brandon had gotten silk pink panties; a little bit after that, he was wondering when the hell Brandon had time to go to Victoria's Secret and not have anyone realize it. A few minutes after that, he wasn't wondering anything anymore, as his mind was only a blur; his boyfriend had taken him in his mouth, and, apparently, was a swallower.  
  
***

Usually, Brandon was a bottom, and a greedy, pushy one at that; but every once in a while, Brandon would ask if he could top, and Eric always wholeheartedly agreed.

So, Eric would get on his back, raise his legs, and Brandon would hold them in place. Then Brandon would fuck him slowly, and gently, and softly, sometimes stroking Eric's cock, sometimes bending low enough that Eric's precum would get on his stomach as he whispered dirty things in Eric's ear. Eric would whimper and whine and moan and it wouldn't be too long until he came, hard and fast and bucking, and Brandon would come a few moments after that; he would pull out, and they would lay there, sticky and sweaty and wrapped up in each other, falling asleep with the smell of each other on each other’s breaths.    
  
***  
Once they came out to everyone - and everyone, meaning _everyone_ \- Brandon bought one of those ridiculous "Future Mrs. Hosmer" shirts that were so popular until it was found out Eric was gay, and that were soon to be taken off the racks of stores everywhere. His shirt was pink and extra large (because _fuck_ women were small) and he loved it. After the team won the World Series, he immediately put it on, and so was interviewed with it on - nobody commented on it, but everyone noticed it.   
  
Eric loved it, too.   
  
***  
In the off season, they bought a house together, a little outside of Kansas City, where they picked up the habit of walking around naked and fucking on the dining table. Occasionally, at least one of them would put on a pair of boxers, and rarely, they would get dressed and go out to see a movie or go grocery shopping.   
  
On one of these rare occasions, Eric had pulled some jeans on and threw on one of Brandon's tee shirts, and was writing down a grocery list. He tentatively wrote coffee down and looked around in the cabinets to see if he could find any - because he was about 78% sure they were out - and didn't, so he was definitely gonna get some. He knew that Brandon liked the white chocolate creamer, especially around the holidays, so he would be sure to get that. Wondering if Brandon would like something new, he yelled for him a couple times.  
  
After receiving no answer, he went in search of his boyfriend, looking first in the bathroom and then in the baseball hall and then finally in the bedroom, where Brandon was laying down on the bed, fast asleep.   
  
Fuck if Eric was gonna wake his fucking cute sleeping boyfriend just to ask about some coffee creamer.   
  
So, very quietly, he tiptoed out of the room and back to the kitchen, where he wrote on the magnetic whiteboard they had on their fridge.   
  
When Brandon woke up from his nap, he soon found his boyfriend gone and the house staggeringly empty; not knowing where Eric had gone, he walked into the kitchen, where he read the whiteboard:  
  
 _Hey babe_  
 _You're asleep rn and when you wake up I'll probably still be at the store_  
 _Btw you're adorable_  
 _Anyway call me if you want a cool new coffee creamer_  
 _And if you don't call me anyway <3_  
  
***  
The night Eric proposed, they were snowed in at their house and Brandon was reading Pride and Prejudice, sitting in front of the fire, wrapped up in a blanket, a mug of the hot cocoa Eric had made resting on the side table.   
  
Eric was coming in with his own cup of cocoa, three of the little marshmallows in it, an oversized sweatshirt on his top half and only briefs on his bottom half. He had the ring in a box in the pocket of his sweatshirt, and he was incredibly nervous, although he couldn't say why.   
  
He set his drink down next to his boyfriend's, then crawled on the couch, resting his head on Brandon's chest.   
  
"Baby, read it out loud," said Eric, getting comfortable. Brandon complied, smiling, enjoying the warmth of Eric's body against his own.    
  
45 minutes later, Brandon had put the book down, and was running his hand through Eric's hair. They could hear the wind howling outside, and see the shadow of the snow that was falling. Eric's eyes were half lidded, and Brandon's were already closed - but Eric had thought long and hard about today being the day, so, fighting against the urge to sleep, he tapped on his boyfriend's face.   
  
Brandon quickly opened his eyes.   
  
"Yeah, babe?" he asked, blinking.   
  
Eric hurried and pulled out the ring, held it in front of Brandon, and thus passed the hardest two seconds of Eric's life, and that was saying a _lot_.   
  
"If you're asking me to marry you, Eric, fuck yes."  
  
Eric took his fiancé's face in his hands and kissed him hard.    
  
***  
When Brandon is sick with the flu, Eric is right by his side the entire time.   
  
"Remember, feed a cold, starve a fever," his grandmother had said when she called. She’d called because she had heard that her grandson was engaged; at first, she'd asked who the lucky young lady was, but after being gently corrected, she'd enquired as to the lucky young gentleman's health. Eric had told her Brandon was sick with the flu.   
  
"Grandma," he replied, "he's got the flu. Also, I don't think that's how the saying goes."  
  
"Well, good luck, dear," she said, and with that, hung up. Eric had no idea what she meant, but whatever, all he knew was that she was okay with his being gay, and that was all he needed to know.   
  
So he put the phone down and brought his homemade chicken noodle soup into the bedroom to Brandon.    
  
***

It was a cold evening in late January when Eric walked in the bedroom to see Brandon on all fours, baring and spreading his ass.   
  
"Jesus Christ," breathed Eric. "Shit."  
  
He dropped the bag he was carrying - he didn't even know what it was anymore - and moved toward the bed, where Brandon was now grinning back at him.   
  
"I don't know, babe, but maybe you should get naked in a couple seconds. I'm kinda getting tired sitting like this."  
  
This, of course, was teasing, but Eric lost no time in getting undressed and climbing on the bed behind his fiancé, taking Brandon's hips in his hands, admiring the view.   
  
Eric started to kiss down Brandon's spine, Brandon bending into it, moaning in anticipation; Eric moved to Brandon's upper thigh, getting some tongue into it.   
  
Soon enough, but not too soon, he was tongue deep in his fiancé's asshole, holding his breath and sucking and enjoying the taste.   
  
A quarter of an hour later, after it was done, Eric was panting and happy and licking his lips and Brandon was panting and happier and licking the head of Eric's cock. The answer he had given to Eric's hesitating and unserious protests was that he liked to "give back."   
  
Eric was happy to oblige.   
  
***  
Despite the fact that they were baseball players, Brandon and Eric were invited by Brandon's parents to come to their Super Bowl party. The boys were asked to bring a dessert - something sweet, said Mrs. Finnegan - so they decided on a French creme brûlée. Instead of winging it, like Eric wanted to, Brandon printed out a recipe of off Delia Smith's website, and, after going to the grocery store (because apparently they didn't have golden caster sugar), got in the kitchen completely naked (after Eric had gotten undressed and refused to get his clothes back on, Brandon figured there was nothing for it but to join him.)  
  
They spread the ingredients out on their island; they sprinkled cornflour in each other's hair and licked vanilla extract off each other's tongues; Eric stirred and Brandon did everything else; as it was chilling for 3 hours, they had no choice but to get the ice cream out and kiss it off of each other.   
  
Finally, after making nearly everything nice and sticky, Eric got Brandon over to the couch and on his stomach. Eric's neck was covered in bruises caused by Brandon's mouth, and now it was Brandon's turn - Eric ravished his fiancé's neck, then sat up and started to work 3 or 4 fingers in Brandon's ass, fucking him hard and slow, complaining over and over about how fucking beautiful Brandon was, and asking him again and again if he liked it, only getting moans in reply. After his mouth traveled down a bit more, Eric sat straighter and gripped Brandon's shoulders. The lube was even colder on his cock than on his fingers, but he didn't care, because all he heard was Brandon's scream of pleasure and all he saw in his head was that perfect fucking _oh_ that Brandon always had on his face during sex.   
  
Eric couldn't get out more than a groan as he pushed himself harder and harder into Brandon, who was even still pushing back against him, going with the rhythm.   
  
" _Eric_... _Eric_... _Eric_." Brandon was panting. Eric reached around and started stroking Brandon's cock up and down, up and down until he came, with one more shout of Eric's name.   
  
Brandon was exhausted, and then quickly, Eric came inside of him, shuddering, throwing his head back, mouth open. Then they laid on the couch, Brandon on top this time, cheeks flushed and trying to catch their breath. They lay there for an hour or more, laughing, teasing each other, until the timer went off, telling them that their dessert was chilled enough.   
  
***  
It's Valentine's Day when Brandon realizes that he is fucking in love with Eric. So in love, in fact, that even a cliched holiday like today wouldn't stop him from doing something nice. So he gets up in the middle of the night - more specifically, 1:30 am - without waking Eric - and actually gets dressed to run down to the specialty shoppe to buy fucking a dozen red roses and a large box of chocolates.   
  
When he gets to the counter to check out, the cashier smiles and asks him how his girlfriend is.   
  
"He's fine," is Brandon's reply as he speeds out of the store and gets right back home to arrange things, and even write a card.   
  
In the morning when Eric wakes up, he follows the smell of eggs and bacon to the kitchen, where Brandon takes him by the shoulders and their lips attach and he doesn't let go until they have to get their lungs to work again.    
  
"Uh, Brandon," Eric laughs, "are you okay?"  
  
"I love you," he answers. "I fucking love you so much."  
  
Eric stares at him. "I love you too, babe," he says.   
  
***  
Brandon's in the shower when Eric walks into the bathroom, staring at the mirror. After a few minutes go by, Eric says,   
  
"Do you think I should shave?"   
  
Brandon immediately slides open the shower door and says _no_.   
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can I come in?"  
  
" _Yes_."  
  
So Eric climbs in the shower with his fiancé, giggling.   
  
If they forget to wash up and only stand there blowing bubbles on each other's faces and groping each other's asses and making out, that's Eric's fault.   
  
***  
Another baseball season has come and gone and they've been engaged for about 8 months now. They planned to have an autumn wedding that the entire team and most of their family would be invited to; as it approached, Brandon began to freak out over the details, such as if there would be enough cake, or if the new gay-marriage law in Kansas would get revoked and they'd have to postpone the ceremony; at times like this, Eric would take Brandon's hands in his and they would begin to dance around the room, going over the footwork they'd learned for their first dance.   
  
The day of the wedding, most of the team cried more than Brandon's and Eric's mothers combined, and the reception was full of joyful well wishes for the future. The newlyweds found out later that their entire registry had been bought at least twice, and, along with a group gift and card from the team, they'd each given an individual gift, as well.   
  
At the end, after saying goodbye, everyone came outside to blow bubbles around the limousine that was to pick the grooms up.   
  
Before they'd left, however, Moose had taken Eric aside and given him his individual gift early. He'd winked as he handed him the box, walked out of the room; Eric was almost scared to open it, but he peeked, and what he immediately ran to the bathroom to put on was a lacy green thong with a little bow on the front that happened to fit him perfectly.   
  
***  
When they got to their Alaskan cabin that was nearly the size of their house and in the middle of the woods, it was a little past midnight. The snow was knee deep and glowed with the moon's light; they hopped along the path holding hands because they'd just gotten fucking married.   
  
Husbands.   
  
After a little exploration of the cabin - which they were to be staying in a full week and was well stocked with necessities - they started undressing each other and kissing up and down towards the bedroom. Outside the door, Eric stopped.   
  
"Wait, wait, wait," he breathed, smiling. "I got something."  
  
He ran in, shutting the door behind him. His pants being still on, he took them off, and spread himself on the bed, messing with his hair until it felt right. Then he cleared his throat, and said, in his best sultry, deep voice:  
  
"Come in."  
  
Moments later, Brandon was pulling the thong off of his husband's hips with his teeth.  
  
***  
The second day of their honeymoon, Brandon came into the living room licking melted chocolate off his fingers, the rest in a bowl. Eric was sitting on the couch, stared, and then muted the television.  
  
"What?" Brandon asked innocently. He licked some off his thumb, humming with satisfaction and closing his eyes. "I felt in the mood for chocolate."  
  
Eric's eyes traveled up and down Brandon's naked body, a grin playing on his mouth.  
  
"Do you... want some?" asked Brandon.   
  
And slowly, Eric stood up and walked forward, his eyes looking down into his husband's, and Brandon swallowed.  
  
As soon as Eric got close enough, Brandon dipped his hand in the chocolate and put some on his own lips. Eric licked it off, a little awkwardly, sure - but he enjoyed it.   
  
"Do you like it?" After Eric was finished, this is what Brandon whispered, running his tongue around his mouth.   
  
Eric only nodded.   
  
Hours later they were still covered in chocolate and saliva and come.   
  
***  
The third day of their honeymoon, Brandon is awoken and greeted by the smell of breakfast in bed, brought in by Eric, whose bedhead is still beautiful and mouthwashed breath still familiar.   
  
***  
It may be the first time Eric's given head, but Brandon doesn't care, he fucking loves it.   
  
Brandon is guiding him through it nearly the entire way - up until he can't talk anymore - and Eric's enjoying it almost as much as he usually is.   
  
First, Eric takes Brandon's cock in both his hands, and starts to rub it; a few moments of that, and he begins to lick around the tip, because he knows that that's what he likes himself; then he runs his tongue along, around the sides, one of his hands playing at the base, the other teasing Brandon's hole.   
  
And apparently, it didn't take much for Brandon to let go, because Eric had hardly gotten his husband's whole cock in his mouth, when Brandon came in short, hot spurts that got all over Eric's face and on his tongue and was what Eric remembered as one of his favorite tastes of all time.   
  
***  
When they're rocking against each other, hands traveling across each other's bodies, lips skimming across each other's faces, they make up names for each other.   
  
_Pumpkin_ _spice_ was one of Brandon's for Eric, one that Eric laughed at at the time, but loved when Brandon would call him that afterward.   
  
Eric's were not always so creative - some favorites of his were _baby_ and _darling_ and _sweetheart_ \- but occasionally, caught in the moment, he would moan something like _stardust_ or _angel_ or _god_ which would make Brandon come that much faster.   
  
***  
The first time Brandon asks Eric to sit on his face, Eric is hesitant - he's had no experience on that side, he says; Brandon argues there's a first time for everything, and it's their honeymoon so it's okay to experiment.   
  
After a little more persuasion - only perhaps of a sexual nature - Eric agrees.   
  
Brandon lights scented candles and tosses some rose petals on the bed (standard in honeymoon cabins) before Eric enters the room; to say Eric was surprised is an understatement.   
  
Both very naked already, Brandon helps Eric by laying on his back, laughing  _come on, babe, it's okay_. And so, slowly, Eric adjusts. 

Immediately, Brandon's tongue is licking around, and a little inside; then, suddenly, he's completely inside and the only thing Eric can get out is a gasp and a soft groan.   
  
His husband is obviously enjoying himself. Eric can hear small cries of pleasure in between deep breaths, and it's making him blush and all the more ready to come. He grips the pillows, and starts to move harder, the pleasure seeping from everywhere, from his curled toes to his closed eyes.   
  
Seconds hardly pass when everything begins to blur into a whiteness as Eric begins to come, throwing his head back, voice coming out in whispered yells.    
  
Afterwards, Brandon lays on Eric's chest, and Eric runs his fingers through his husband’s hair.   
  


***

The last day of their honeymoon is the seventh day of November, and it’s snowing harder than the first day they came. Eric and Brandon are cuddled together under the covers, sharing body heat even though they’re already warm; Brandon is still asleep, but Eric is awake.

With Brandon laying on it, Eric’s arm is falling asleep, but he doesn’t mind. He’s staring at the side of his husband’s face, studying every stray hair, every beauty mark, every slight imperfection. He can hear the automatic coffee maker brewing, he can smell the aroma filling the cabin, but had no desire to move from this spot. He would stay in this spot forever if he could.

He could try, at least: no matter how much he felt the urge to kiss his husband, he held himself back in fear of waking him up.

Brandon ended up waking up by himself a little while later, when Eric’s arm was completely asleep. Brandon turned, smiling sleepily, whispering good morning, blinking in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“Hey,” said Eric. “Good morning.”

They decide to stay in bed the entire morning, talking. They also decide to stay an extra day.

***

After having stayed a few extra days at the cabin, they don’t get home until the 15th.

When they get back, it’s 10 o’clock at night. They enter the door and the first thing they do is throw their bags into the living room and collapse on the couch, because _fuck_ are they tired; then Brandon picks up the phone on the side table and dials Pizza Hut, and orders a large pineapple pizza, because he knows that’s what they both like.

The pizza arrives sooner than expected, and they argue a little over who has to get up and answer the door - Eric ends up being the one to do it (“I _ordered_ the pizza, you should do something; besides, the box is warm, you’ll be fine.”)

As they eat, they turn on the television to a cheesy action movie that Brandon accuses Eric of actually _liking_ , something which Eric adamantly denies, albeit it with a grin on his face. Somehow, near the end of the movie, and when the pizza is all gone, they’re cuddled up against each other, Eric snoring, Brandon quietly laughing at him, reminding himself to totally make fun of Eric in the morning.

***

As Eric is gone for a checkup at the doctor’s office one afternoon, Brendon decides to cook dinner, a recipe that he’d never tried before. Supposedly, it took 2 hours to bake: Eric returned in 1 and a half, which is when Brandon realized that he still needed to make the sauce, and that needed to cool for another 15 minutes.

“What’s in the oven, huh, babe?” Eric asked, coming into the kitchen. “By the way, I’m all okay, thanks for asking.”

“You didn’t even give me time to say ‘hello’, hon,” answered Brandon, leaning back into the arms of Eric, which had wrapped around him from behind. “And dinner’s in the oven. It’s a new thing I’m trying out.”

“Is it good?”

“I don’t know, that’s why we’re trying it out.”

35 minutes later, Brandon was running naked into kitchen, yelling at Eric, who came sauntering in with a lazy grin on his face, to turn the smoke alarm off. Brandon opened the oven, put the OveGlove on, and quickly got the food out. Praying to god it wasn't _too_ badly burnt, he took off the tin foil, blowing on it.

After a few more minutes of waiting on the kitchen floor, Brandon gave a fork to Eric.

“You can try it first, right?”

Eric stood, smiling. “Sure, babe,” he said, going over to the dish. He stuck his fork in, brought it to his mouth - then he hummed with satisfaction.

“For real?” asked Brandon, standing up and coming over. 

“For real,” agreed Eric, mouth full. “Here, try some.”

He dug his fork into a different corner, and fed it to Brandon.

“I think,” said Brandon, chewing, “that the sauce would make it, uh, better.”

They refrained from Eric’s idea of having a _different_ kind of dinner, and instead ate on the dining table.

Afterwards, they went with Eric’s idea.

**  
*****

**Author's Note:**

> if ur reading this ur amazing friend congrats


End file.
